


What We Have is more Than Enough

by Kellyscams



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Horny Bucky Barnes, M/M, Making Out, Non-Explicit Sex, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Punk Bucky Barnes, Rock and Roll Chose Me Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14374215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: Steve has just gotten back from a work-related trip--two weeks being able to speak on panels at comic expos sounds like a freaking dream. The only downside is having to miss Bucky's band first big show. Until Steve's last panel is canceled unexpectedly and he's able to see the show after all. Bucky's so excited... and afterward, hereallycan't hide it.





	What We Have is more Than Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luninosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luninosity/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rock and Roll Chose Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2607245) by [Kellyscams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams). 



> Since most things rock and roll remind me of Luni nowadays, I thought, why not. Happy birthday, love!

“Does he know you're coming?”

“Nope. He doesn't even know I'm home.” 

Sam and Sharon both laugh as Steve finishes getting dressed. If he can. This fucking shirt won't button right and by now he's sure it's doing it on purpose. Grunting, Steve rips the damn thing off and tosses it on his unpacked bag. He'll get around to emptying that. Eventually. 

He glances around and hates what he doesn't see. None of Bucky’s guitars. Or his music books. Or his notepads. Not that it’s a super big deal or anything, it’s not like they officially live together. Most of the time, Bucky stays here. A flash of the eyes and a _pretty please, Buck, c’mon, you know you wanna, it’ll be easier than goin’ all the way home, I’ll make it worth it_ is all it takes. Bucky’s gotten into the habit of just leaving his stuff here. Makes it easier. 

But Steve’s been gone on a trip for work--two weeks at Comic Expos as a panelist for Wonder Comics, how awesome is that--and now little signs of Bucky’s presence are no longer here. Steve probably should’ve expected it. Bucky doesn’t like being alone so going back to his _actual_ place with Clint makes sense. Clint was probably excited too since he’s always accusing Steve of stealing his roommate. 

Now Steve is home, though, and a day early at that. The last panel happened to be canceled and Steve caught a redeye and drank two cups of coffee that’re probably twice his size so he’s bouncing off the damn walls, but he’s _not_ going to miss this show. Nope, not this one, it’s way too important and came up so unexpectedly. Plus, he _really misses Bucky_. 

“Holy fucking shit,” he exclaims. “Where’s all my shit?”

“ _Steve_ ,” Sam groans. “Just pick a shirt, we’re gonna be late.”

Which would mean his ass, too, given the drummer of The Winter Soldiers, Maria, is his girlfriend. And they do need to get a move on. This is a really big night for the band. The biggest night ever. Up until recently, they’d strictly been a cover band, playing punk covers of old rock songs. When Bucky started going to school to refine his talent, he also studied music composition. Composing for Broadway had always been a dream of his, but he started writing his own songs for the band. They started incorporating them into their shows. People liked them. They posted a few online. And then one day, an official band account liked it. 

After that, places started calling to book them more and more often. Bars with underground showrooms and places that needed slots to be filled. Even, a few times, places out of state--Philadelphia, Boston, Hartford.

Last Wednesday, after Steve got through with his panel, he had about a bazillion texts and missed calls from Bucky. Completely sure something was wrong, he called him back right then and there. Only nothing was wrong. The opposite. It was fucking amazing. It took about a thousand years for Steve to understand what Bucky was trying to tell him, but even Steve himself squealed right there in the middle of the hallway. 

They’d landed a gig at Warsaw, an actual venue in Brooklyn, and it was because an up-and-coming band _asked_ them to be their _opening_ act. The only downer had been that Steve was meant to still be in California. But as luck would have it…

“Ugh.” Steve shoves his drawer closed again. “This is stupid.”

“Oh my god.”

Sam flops back on Steve’s bed. If Steve doesn’t hurry up, he just might fling him over his shoulder and drag him there. With Sharon laughing at Steve’s misfortune the whole way. 

“You know what I think it is, Sam?” Sharon says. “I think Steve is nervous.” 

Steve rubs his eyes under his thick-rimmed glasses and shakes his head. Hopes that’s enough to cover the blush that reaches the tips of his ears anyway. 

“Am not.” 

“Holy shit.” Sam laughs. “You are!” He nudges Sharon with his elbow. “Look at him, he’s nervous.” 

“I hate you both.” 

They both insist that he loves them as he starts rummaging through his drawer again. He can’t totally deny them their claim though. Two and a half years together and Steve _is_ a little nervous. Well, no, not nervous. He fucking loves the hell out of that punk rock, tattooed, pin-cushion marshmallow. And he knows Bucky loves him. But he wants to look so fucking good for him tonight that he’s the _only_ one in the crowd that Bucky even fucking looks at. 

“You know he’s gonna love you in whatever you wear, right?” Sharon points out. “You can show up in a garbage bag and you’ll be all he stares at.”

“I think he’ll be all anyone stares at.” 

Steve snorts a laugh at Sam’s comment but does start to get a move on. Since he’s already wearing a pair of red skinny jeans, he pulls a black _Attack on Titans_ shirt on, slips into his black Converse sneakers before running his fingers through his hair and adding his brimmed Pokemon beanie to his head. 

“Well?” he asked. Tossed a denim jacket on. “You guys fuckin’ coming or what?”

As they exchange a glance, Steve shrieks, and bolts for the door. Just as he suspected, the two of them are on his tail in an instant. Not like he can go far. He’s the one who’s gotta lock the fucking door. Which means being pulled into a headlock by Sam and tickled by Sharon. Some fucking friends. Steve loves the shitheads. 

When the guy at the ticket booth takes Steve’s ticket--sure he could’ve saved a tree and downloaded it on his phone, but he wanted the momento--he proudly announces that the lead singer and guitarist of the opening band is _his_ boyfriend. The guy hardly cares, but fuck him, Steve’s excited. He then goes on to tell the bartender and the two people standing next to him at the bar and the coat-check lady. 

Steve’s breaths catches when he takes a look at the stage. The name of the band isn’t just painted on an old sheet and hung from the ceiling. There’s a whole set. All the people there didn’t automatically mean cramped. This isn’t a tiny bar, it’s a venue. With high, vaulted ceiling and art deco and real overhead lighting. Even the spotlights over the stage will be different, Steve thinks with an excited jump to his heart. 

The place is packed. That only doubles, hell, _triples_ Steve’s excitement for Bucky and the band. There’s merchandise being sold. Links to the album they paid to record. Shirts. Stickers. If they do well tonight who knows what’ll happen. 

“Holy shit, Steve,” Sharon says as they make their way into the showroom. “You’re bouncing off the walls, calm down.” 

“I can’t, I can’t!” It might not be off the walls, but he literally is bouncing. “I haven’t seen him in _two_ weeks!” 

Sam’s already gotten in touch with Maria which means she’s coming out from backstage to bring them there with them. For about the next five minutes since they’re going on soon. Clint, Steve assumes, is already back there with Nat. 

It doesn’t take long for Maria to get there and when she does, Sam first wraps her up in a tight hug and presses a kiss to her lips. Hard as she comes off, she damn near starts giggling at that. 

“What the hell?” she asks. “Why’re you so late?”

Sam jerks his thumb back. “Mr. Punctuality over here.” 

“Holy shit!” Maria blinks like her eyes are playing tricks on her. “Does he know you’re here? There’s no way he knows, he won’t stop whining about it.” 

Steve laughs and shakes his head and, fuck, he hopes Bucky never changes. “No, he has no fuckin’ idea. I wanted to surprise him.”

Which makes Maria decide that this needs to be done just right. Which means Steve is not allowed to go backstage with everyone. Which means he has to wait even _longer_ to see Bucky. 

Really, Steve’s should just throw himself on the floor and wail and cry until he gets what he wants. That’ll fucking show ‘em. Though, he does suppose there is some logic in this decision. Maria says that if Bucky sees him before the show it’ll throw off his entire game. That he’ll be so focused on getting back to Steve his head won’t be in the music. If he sees him in the crowd, the surprise is just as good and he’s already got his mojo flowing. Steve snickered when Maria used the word mojo. She rolled her eyes and punched his arm. 

So, now he’s front and center, just like always--it took him some pushing and slipping between people, but he made it--and he’s waiting for the show to start. The curtain’s been closed now so when it starts to open and the lights lower Steve’s pretty sure he starts screaming before everyone else even notices. It burns in his lungs. He should be careful. A reunion at the hospital because Steve gave himself an asthma attack is not what he has in mind for tonight. 

That’s hard, though, when Bucky is suddenly in full sight up on the stage. Bright lights shining on him. Those black jeans that fit him in a way that has Steve’s eyes dropping to where he knows exactly his cock sits. Ugh, and that fucking shirt. Gray and plunging. Damn near see through and Steve would yell at him for showing off in front of all these people but he looks so fucking good in front of a crowd and all Steve wants to do is get his tongue over all those tattoos. 

Amazing thing is, so many people would take a look at him and only see the prosthetic metal arm and the paintings on it and all the tattoos on the rest of his body and all the facial piercings. They’d assume he was a jerk--okay, he is, but he’s _Steve’s_ jerk, and that’s different--when Bucky’s anything but. He’s the sweetest guy in the world. Who was dealt a shitty hand and played it the best he could. 

“Hello, hello,” Bucky says into the mic. So brave. Not a bit of fear in the world. “Thanks coming out. We’re the Winter Soldiers.”

He opens up his mouth like he means to say more--people _are_ screaming, some shouting that they love him, love them--but the lights happen to flash off of Bucky and over the crowd. Just so happens, they pass over Steve. 

Steve smiles when Bucky’s eyes go wide. His jaw drops open. To everyone else, it might look like stage fright. To Steve, he just looks happier than a pig in shit. Bucky spins around to look at Natasha who first nods and then gives him a thumbs up. Maria does the same. Bucky, even under threat of smearing his eyeliner or mascara, smothers his face for a second before composing himself. Well, first he giggles and his face is all red and he clearly debates just hopping off the stage. Then, he composes himself. 

He clears his throat. Says, “Everybody ready for a _good_ time?”

Bucky says it sensually. With a sway of his hips. A lift of his eyebrows. An intoxicating nibble at his lips. God, Steve almost crawls onto the stage himself and _he_ knows Bucky’s just acting for the crowd. 

They start playing. 

And the world melts away to just Steve and Bucky. Happens every time. Watching Bucky play is mesmerizing. Like tunnel vision. All Steve can focus on his Bucky. His voice. His words. His notes. It all just wraps around him and pulls him closer. Makes him float away to some other world where only the two of them exist. Sometimes, Steve wishes he could take Bucky’s voice and make a color out of it. It’d be the most beautiful color in the world. 

Before he knows it, Bucky is telling everyone who Nat and Maria are which means the show is over. He never realizes how quickly a half-an-hour to forty-five minutes can really go until he’s watching Bucky on stage. 

Now that they’re exiting off the stage, Steve heads towards the bar again. To be honest, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the headliner. He doesn’t even know the name of the band. All he gives a shit about them is that they ask The Winter Soldiers to open for them. 

Steve figures it’ll take some time for everyone to pack up and come out, so he’s not put off by the crowd at the bar. He never actually gets there though. Just when he’s about the leave the showroom, an arm wraps around his waist and he’s lifted up and whisked away. 

He cracks up immediately. Steve can’t see him, but he knows it’s Bucky who’s got him and carrying him to the back. He’s not completely lifted off the ground, but it’s enough that his feet only skim the floor and behind him, he can hear Bucky giving his thanks every time someone compliments him or recognizes him, but he otherwise keeps his head down and just rushes like hell backstage.

“Bucky!” Steve shouts with a laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

Bucky still doesn’t answer. He just nudges Steve up the backstage stairs and through the door. The room is small but big enough for a few people to sit comfortably. One couch. Two armchairs. A beanbag. A few folding chairs. There’s a fridge and a few other niceties but Steve doesn’t get much time to look around since he’s being slammed up against the door. 

“Oh, my god,” Bucky murmurs as he sucks on Steve’s tongue. “Holy shit, I missed you.”

His hands are all over him. Yanking Steve’s shirt out from his pants and quickly unbuckling his belt. 

“I missed you, too, Bucky.” Steve kisses back, but not nearly as fevered as Bucky. Bucky is… Bucky is going _wild_. “What is going _on_ , Buck?”

He’s panting and restless. Not stopping. Touching anywhere Steve will let him. Lips sucking on Steve’s neck and across his collarbone which is fucking _unfair_ and he knows it since that makes Steve weak at the knees. 

“I just… I just _need_ you, Steve. Oh, _please_ , Steve.” 

He pulls Steve’s shirt up and over his head. Looks at his body like it’s a fucking work of art and whines as he skims his fingers over Steve’s chest. Bucky dives in again, this time kissing the tattoo on Steve’s pec. He makes his way over to Steve’s nipples. Sucks and nips and twists. Steve whimpers, holding onto the back of Bucky’s head to keep him right there. His own head keeps knocking back against the door as his cock gets tighter and tighter in his already tight pants. 

Steve begins to slowly lift Bucky’s shirt off of him, but only allows him to move so that it can fall between them. He palms at his own erection. Lets Bucky see. Lips still at Steve’s nipples, Bucky once again whines.

“Please, Steve,” he says. “I need you. Fuck, I need you so fuckin’ bad.”

This is kind of a hilarious turn of events. Usually, it’s Steve who’s the little sex monster. He expected to be the one begging Bucky for all the sex in the world. But this. This is fun. Steve has a feeling it has to do with the adrenaline of coming off a show mixed with Steve’s unexpected arrival. So much happening at once. Some of their best sex has happened after one of Bucky's shows. Also after Bucky's watched Steve drawing something. There's just something in the air of watching each other in their art that sparks them to life.

“Wow.” Steve chuckles. “I like you like this.” 

Bucky drops his head on Steve’s shoulder but goes on touching. His hips. His ribs. His neck. Like he just can’t help it. Looks like he’s desperate to get Steve’s pants down but won’t unless Steve is really okay with it. 

“You want what’s in there?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods. “Fuck yes.”

“What do you wanna do with it?”

Bucky licks his lips. “I wanna play with it. I wanna make you scream. I wanna make you feel good all over.”

Fuck, if he keeps talking like that these roles are gonna reverse again and Steve’s having fun with them this way. 

“And what about this one?” Steve gives Bucky’s crotch a tap. Bucky gasps. “What’s in it for that? Does this one get to play?”

When Steve cups his hand over Bucky’s crotch, Bucky freezes mid-breath and a half a moan gets past his tongue. He nods.

“I need to fuck you, Steve,” Bucky whispers. “I’ve been dyin’ without you. No one’s gonna come back here, I made sure. I fuckin’ need you.”

Steve laughs. “I’d gladly let you fuck me back here, but we don’t have any--”

Before Steve can even finish that, Bucky is scrambling to pull stuff out of his back pocket. Some packets of lube and a few condoms. Steve quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“Were you expecting company?”

“What?” Bucky rolls his eyes. “They’re not _mine_ , dick. I asked one of the guys from the other band when I saw you. I was just gonna go in the bathroom and jer--” He stops there and clears his throat, but Steve cracks up anyway. “Shut up. But… uh, we don’t… _have_ to… I just… oh, god, I must sound like such a fuckin’ jackass…”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “You do. A fuckin’ horny jackass at that. But you know what?”

“What?”

Steve puts his arms around Bucky’s neck. Kisses him. Long, firm, deep, passionate. _Claiming_. 

“You’re _my_ horny jackass.” Steve starts pulling Bucky’s dick out and opens the first packet of lube. He rubs it over Bucky’s cock. “And I want you fuck me.” 

Bucky groans and jerks his hips before scooping Steve into his arms and bringing him over to the couch where he quickly-- _finally_ \--pulls his pants down.

“Now,” Bucky says, “you know I just can’t resist those eyes.”

***

Cuddled together under a sheet, Steve thinks that’s what they’re under, he glances around the room. All the folding chairs are overturned. The lampshade is off the lamp. The ice tray is totally empty and upside down on the floor. All of the couch cushions are askew. And there’s a pair of boxers that are hanging from the ceiling fan. 

“Um. Do you think they’ll believe it was this messy _before_ we got in here?”

Bucky chuckles. “Not a chance. We’re in so much trouble.”

“Worth it.” Steve rolls over and rests over Bucky’s chest. “You were so great tonight, baby.” 

“Whatever, I just can’t believe--ow!” He rubs the spot in his side Steve just pinched. “What was that for?” 

“Don’t whatever me! Tonight was a big deal!” 

“Well, yeah. But you’re a bigger deal. You’ll always be a bigger deal.” Bucky sits up and keeps Steve where he is. “We could headline Madison Square Garden, but if I’m not coming home to you at the end of the day then what difference does it make?” 

Well, if that’s not enough to make all of Steve’s emotions melt into his heart at once. He’s not sure where one ends and another begins. 

“Bucky,” he whispers. “I want you to succeed.”

“Yeah, so do I. But not at the expense of us. Never at that.” Bucky takes his hand and holds them tightly. And Steve might be imagining it, but he thinks he might tap once on his left ring finger. “And I hope… that you feel the same about… me?”

He’s not looking when he asks it, and it _is_ , in fact, a question. Steve sits up quickly now and kisses Bucky’s knuckles. 

“Oh, Bucky,” he murmurs. Bucky looks up. Steve can just make out the bit of worry in his eyes. “Bucky, I love you so much. Yes. Fuck, yes, I feel the same way. I’m in this, Bucky. I’m _so_ in this.” 

Bucky lets out a wet laugh. No tears, but there could have been. While they should really get to cleaning this place up, they lay back down together instead. Steve grins and snuggles against Bucky. They’ve just decided that they’ve got time. A lot of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr!
> 
> [thebestpersonherelovesbucky](http://www.thebestpersonherelovesbucky.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
